Thursday, 19 March 2009

Carpe Diem

Having joked about the perils of skiing in my last post, I thought I would add that I feel terribly sad for the family of the lovely Natasha Richardson, especially her two young sons.

Reading the reports I would venture that her untimely death says less about the dangers of skiing than the fact, often forgotten in the hurly burly of daily mundanity, that we all have a very tenuous grasp on life.

"Don't ask (it's forbidden to know) what final fate the gods havegiven to me and you, Leuconoe, and don't consult Babylonianhoroscopes. How much better it is to accept whatever shall be,whether Jupiter has given many more winters or whether this is thelast one, which now breaks the force of the Tuscan sea against thefacing cliffs. Be wise, strain the wine, and trim distant hope withinshort limits. While we're talking, grudging time will alreadyhave fled: seize the day, trusting as little as possible in tomorrow."

7 comments:

Obviously, I don't know Natasha Richardson but it is sad to see such a beautiful and talented person with two children die unexpectedly aged 45. It should make all of us sit up and realise that this day might be our last one.

Yes, I've been very preoccupied with this thought recently as an aquaintance has just had a brain tumour removed, & been told it's the worst sort of tumour possible. 8% last 4 yrs after radiotherapy. She too has two young sons.Your word verification is LAMENT. How apt.

Helmets for skiing - I don't know if a helmet would have saved Natasha Richardson's life, but it might have done ... but people don't want to wear them as they don't look 'cool' - is this stupid or what?

i don't know if NR didn't wear a helmet to look cool; more likely, she was having a lesson on a short slope, or not even going downhill, where it would seem that a helmet was not necessary. i felt terrible when i read about this. and it really does make you think how short life is, and how fragile we really are. i had a friend that died when he was out taking a walk one day; another one thought he had a cold and went to bed and died. we need to make the most of our days.

The move to France was only supposed to be for a couple of years, not forever. Then I met The Frenchman. Then I had La Fille. Now there's no way back. But La Fille, to whom a horse is a cheval and a frog is just pond life is still half English. So before the Gallic nation claims her for its own, sprinkles her with garlic, sautés her and swallows her up whole we make regular escapes on the Eurostar. And we have discovered the grass is various shades of green either side of the Channel.